Stuck in a Lift with a Psychokinetic Vulcan
by Ster J
Summary: Christine gets stuck in a lift with Spock just after beaming up from Platonius. Later, Spock helps her through a nightmare.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Stuck in a Lift with a Psychokinetic Vulcan

Author: Ster Julie

Codes: S, Ch; Stuck in a lift challenge

Rating: G

Part 1 of 1

Summary: Christine gets stuck in a lift with Spock just after beaming up from Platonius.

Author's Note: I know that someone else somewhere wrote a post-Platonius story before and mentioned that the women were scented with some whore house perfume. I hope that author doesn't mind I borrowed that idea. I _think_ I changed the name of the perfume.

--ooOoo--

Christine Chapel padded her way down the corridor as quickly as her pseudo-Greek sandals allowed. She saw the surprised look the transporter operator gave them when they materialized in the shiny (and for the men, _short_) gowns and garish makeup. She just wanted to find the nearest turbolift to take her to her private quarters and a hot, hot shower. She had more to wash off than the make up and the _Eau de Slut_ perfume she was doused in. She wanted to wash away the humiliating memories as well.

Christine wasn't fast enough, it seemed. Try as she might to close the doors, they stayed open long enough for Commander Spock to enter carrying what looked for all the galaxy to be a pile of laundry. Christine turned her face to the wall. She didn't want to be seen by anyone at that moment, least of all by Spock.

"Miss Chapel," Spock said gently, holding out half his bundle to her. "Your uniform."

Christine turned her head only enough to see her clothing neatly folded on his arm, her boots dangling from his fingers. "Thank you, sir," she whispered as she took them and held them as a shield before her.

Christine heard a rustling behind her, smelled the light herbal scent of a no-rinse wash packet opening. Realizing that Spock was sponge-bathing and changing clothes behind her in the small compartment, she kept her eyes closed and waited for him to finish.

It was only then that Christine realized they were not moving.

"Mr. Spock?" she said softly. "Are we stuck? I don't think this lift is working."

"I know," he acknowledged. "I took it offline." He proffered another wash packet to the nurse over her shoulder. "I am certain that you do not wish to walk the halls in that robe," he continued soothingly. Sensing Christine's sudden shyness, Spock hurried to add. "I will face away until you are finished."

Christine peeked over her shoulder. Spock was indeed facing away from her, with his eyes cast down lest he catch her reflection in a panel. "I had wanted a hot shower," Christine murmured as if to herself. Suddenly, the wash packet grew warm in her hands.

"Tell me when it is warm enough," Spock said quietly.

"Enough!" Christine said quickly as the cloth became almost too hot to handle. She began by washing her neck and arms. "I see the kironide finally kicked in," she observed as she moved to her chest. Fortunately, the liquid in the cloth evaporated quickly without leaving any soapy feel behind. There was no need to rinse or towel off.

"Yes, unfortunately, not soon enough to assist Captain Kirk," Spock announced, his head still bowed.

Christine continued to wash and wondered how she would do an adequate job on her back with such a small cloth. Suddenly, she felt another warm cloth tenderly rub over her shoulders and down her back in long strokes. She peeked behind her quickly to see Spock still facing away, studying the floor. Thankfully, the ghostly hand skipped her glutes and instead washed over the backs of her legs and even her feet.

"The Platonians doused Uhura and me in that awful scent," Christine whispered, still mortified at the memory. She heard a vent overhead whoosh to life as it sucked the odiferous atmosphere out and replaced it with clean air. She took a deep breath and breathed a soft, "Thank you."

Christine took a fresh cloth and scrubbed at her painted face. It took two more cloths until she felt that the makeup was gone. She leaned up against the side of the lift and awkwardly pulled on her undergarments and tights, followed by her uniform and boots. "I'm decent," she announced as she pulled pins from her hair and tried to finger comb it into something more presentable.

Spock turned and inspected the nurse. He took one more washcloth, warmed it, and wiped gently at the nurse's face to remove the last of the heavy eye makeup, all the while whispering calming thoughts into her mind to help her relax. Christine didn't know what was happening, but she knew that she felt cherished at that moment. Spock then twisted a few strands of her hair back on either side and secured it with two of the many hairpins. It was not a style that Christine had worn since she was twelve, but it was regulation and would get her back to her cabin with dignity intact.

Spock then gathered all of the leavings--the empty wash packets, the pseudo-Greek robes, sandals, and _accoutrements_-- and concentrated for a moment. Christine was amazed when everything vaporized as if hit with a phaser.

"Impressive," Christine commented, one brow on the rise Vulcan-style. Spock copied the look with a twinkle.

"Why did you do this?" she said after a pause.

Spock dipped his head to one side in a Vulcan shrug. "You needed your dignity back," he said quietly. "We both did."

Christine smiled gently. "Thank you," she responded. "What if someone complains that we held up this lift?"

Spock pulled himself to his full height. "As First Officer, I do not have to explain to anyone, other than the captain."

"Well, I am not First Officer," Christine observed. "I'll just tell them it got stuck." She studied the Vulcan for a long moment. "Thank you for giving me my dignity back," she said at last.

"I come to serve," Spock replied. He placed his had on the lift controls. "Level please?" he asked.

Christine took Spock's arm with a no-nonsense grip. "Sickbay," she said firmly. "Regulations state that any crewmember returning from landing party duty must have a post-mission check up."

Spock obediently, yet reluctantly, sent the lift to Sickbay.

"Besides," Christine commented, "I want to know what other tricks you can do with all that Kironide at work in you!"

END PART 1


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Stuck in a Lift with a Psychokinetic Vulcan (Part 2)  
Author: Ster Julie  
Codes: S, Ch; Stuck in a lift challenge  
Rating: G  
Part 1 of 1  
Summary: Spock helps Christine through a post-Platonius nightmare.

For the ladies of the group that wanted a sequel...

--ooOoo--

"McCoy to Spock. Where the devil are you?"

Spock roused himself from the light state of meditation he had finally been able to achieve. He rose to his feet and moved to a wall-mounted comm. set.

"Spock here," he replied. "I am in the forward observation lounge, Doctor."

"Well stay put," McCoy replied testily. "I don't like chasing my patients down."

Spock's eyebrow rose in surprise. "I didn't realize that I was a patient."

"Just stay put," the doctor replied. "McCoy out."

Spock sighed. He had finally found a place on the ship where he was not as bombarded by the thoughts of his shipmates. The kironide had heightened his telepathic abilities to such a point that his shields were useless and he found himself privy to everyone else's stray thoughts. He had set himself up in the forward OD to ride out the effects of the kironide--alone.

McCoy soon entered the room and began scanning the Vulcan immediately. "How are you feeling?" the doctor muttered as he scowled at the tricorder readouts.

"There has been no change," Spock reported.

McCoy harrumphed at that. "Well Jim's condition has changed," he reported. Spock looked up quickly, regretting doing so as he was caught in a wave of vertigo. "Jim is acting like he has the galaxy's worst ever hangover.

Spock looked at the doctor ruefully. "I am a bit nauseous and dizzy."

McCoy stepped to the replicator and called up a few items. Carrying them over to Spock, he set them down next to the Vulcan. "You are also a bit dehydrated, which could account for the dizziness." As Spock took the proffered medication and drank down the water, the doctor looked around the room, puzzled. The shields were up on the best view from the ship. "Why did you come here if you didn't want to look out the windows?" he asked.

Spock dipped his head to the side. "This section of the ship is the least occupied at this time," he explained. "I don't feel the press of so many minds on me."

"I see," McCoy replied, even though he really didn't understand all that Vulcan mental mumbo-jumbo. "Well, these results show that the kironide is leaving your system, albeit slowly. I wish I could give you an idea of how much longer you'll have to suffer through this ... "

Spock could hear the doctor, but he wasn't actively listening to McCoy. The Vulcan could sense terror, distress, but from whom? He rose to his feet and moved quickly to the door. McCoy had to run to keep up with him.

"What is it, Spock?" McCoy asked. "What's wrong?"

"Christine is in distress," Spock replied tersely as they moved into a turbolift.

"How do you know?" the doctor continued.

"The kironide," Spock responded, none too patiently. "I can sense her agitation."

As soon as the lift came to a stop, Spock bolted out the doors and down the corridor. McCoy thought the Vulcan would break down the doors to the nurse's quarters, but instead he just placed his hands against the bulkhead and whispered quietly. Soon enough, the doors opened to her darkened room.

"Spock?" she murmured sleepily.

Spock entered Christine's room, stopping before the sleeping alcove.

"You were having a nightmare," he said gently. "Are you all right?"

Christine took in a deep breath. Her heart was still trying to find its proper rhythm after her disturbing dream.

"How did you know I was having a nightmare?" she asked.

"I heard you, Spock replied bluntly.

Christine chewed on that thought. "Are we linked?" she said after a time.

Spock shifted uncomfortably. "As long as the kironide is still affecting me, I am … sensitive to everyone's thoughts."

Christine noticed Spock's evasive answer. "You know what I mean," she said, brooking no nonsense from the Vulcan.

"I seem to be most sensitive to your needs, Christine," he whispered into the darkness.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, Mister Spock," she said at last. "Doctor McCoy, if you could give me a sedative, then I wouldn't be so much trouble to … "

"You do not trouble me, Christine," Spock interjected softly.

That was the second time he had called her by name, Christine realized. She was touched, but she was also disturbed by the thought that he could read her so clearly, so easily.

"Do you really want that sedative, Christine?" McCoy asked into the darkness. "It's only a few hours until morning."

"I can help Nurse Chapel relax," Spock announced quietly. Let me help, Spock whispered into Christine's mind.

McCoy waited a moment for Christine to answer. "Well, Chris?" he asked.

She sighed into the darkness. "You're right Doctor," she replied. "It's too late in the night for a sedative. I think I'll take Mister Spock up on his offer."

There was a very pregnant pause. Christine could just make out McCoy's skeptical look at the First Officer. Spock could sense the doctor's curiosity about any ulterior motives the Vulcan may have.

"We promise to behave, Mother," Spock teased.

McCoy rose to his full height. "See that you do!" he ordered back in his most fatherly voice. "Call if you need anything, Chris," the doctor called into the alcove.

"Will do," she promised, and McCoy turned and left. Christine reached behind her and turned on a tiny light, just bright enough so that she and Spock could see each other.

"I should ask if you are all right," Christine asked. "You look … disturbed."

"My health is … adequate," Spock replied.

"My, but you are being evasive tonight," she commented, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just how so you plan to help me relax?"

"You are familiar with Vulcan neuro-pressure technique?" he asked.

"Do you really want to be touching me while the kironide is making you more telepathically sensitive?" Christine countered.

Spock gracefully folded himself on the floor at the foot of her bed. "That is the beauty of telekinetic powers," he shared. "I can perform the technique on you without ever touching you."

"Ah," Christine said, "just like you were able to wash my back earlier with out lifting a finger."

"Precisely." Spock paused. He noticed a small amount of discomfort remained about their earlier meeting in the lift. "Did I cause you any further anxiety?"

"Well … "

"Forgive me, Christine," Spock said quickly. "I only meant to be of assistance."

"I was just surprised to feel you washing me, that's all," she responded.

"The stench of that perfume was overpowering," Spock teased. "I knew we had to get rid of it quickly before it contaminated the ship's air."

Christine thought a moment. "Tell me, did you feel anything as you moved the washcloth over my back?"

"No," he answered simply. "It felt more like moving a cursor on a computer screen."

"But your eyes were averted," she responded, "yet you moved as if you could see everything."

"I went by memory," Spock replied.

"Memory?" Christine asked. "And why is it that you have my body, my nude body, committed to memory?"

Spock didn't bat an eye. "Your uniform leaves so very little to the imagination, Miss Chapel."

"Well, don't blame me," she retorted. "I didn't design those monstrosities!" A quiet momet passed between them. "So, what do I need to do for this neuro-pressure procedure?" she asked at last.

"Just recline quietly in a comfortable position," he replied as he folded his hands before his chest.

"Won't being in the vicinity of so many other minds distract you, Spock?" she asked as she tried to relax.

"I find that concentrating on you and your needs blocks out the other minds," he admitted.

_Hmmm …_ Christine thought as Spock's ghostly fingers began their magic on her neck and shoulders, even though she knew that he hadn't moved an inch from his place on the floor. Stress and tension flowed away from her like water from a chute.

Christine never felt closer to Spock than at that moment. Even the intimacy of sharing consciousness with him during that time with Sargon and Thalassa was nothing next to this closeness.

_So you are sensitive to my thoughts, eh, Spock?_ she sent to him._ Well, now hear this! You were genuinely concerned for me down on the planet, and that touched me so deeply. You are a dear, sweet being, and it showed by how you took care of me in that lift, and how you are seeing to my needs now. Is it any wonder that I love you? I have to say that the love I am feeling for you at this moment is far removed from the love I professed to you during the Psi 2000 crisis. This love has grown and mellowed. If nothing more should come of us, if there is even an us to begin with, know that for this moment, you have made me feel safe and cherished._

Spock heard Christine sigh once before she delved back into a deep sleep. He had "heard" every word that she had sent him, and felt the emotions behind each word. He had dismissed her once before as a flighty human female, but Spock would no longer make that error. Christine Chapel was a woman of great strength, ability, and compassion. Spock would be honored if she would allow him to number her among his few friends.

And if, eventually, their friendship would grow to become something more, well, Spock was not opposed to that idea, either.

END PART TWO

END STORY


End file.
